


Away From The Sun

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Gen, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-18
Updated: 2006-03-17
Packaged: 2018-08-16 06:38:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8091502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Different perspectives on the path behind and the journey ahead. (02/13/2004)





	1. Changes

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Spoilers, 3.01 "The Xindi," 3.02 "Anomaly."  
  
  


* * *

_Jonathan Archer_

I'm not supposed to be scared of anything, but I don't know where I am  
I wish that I could move but I'm exhausted and nobody understands  
I'm trying hard to breathe now but there's no air in my lungs  
There's no one here to talk to and the pain inside is making me numb

Space...the only place I've ever felt completely at home. A place that had only existed in my dreams as a child, a world of mystery and wonders that lured young minds to spend years pining away in the search for their own stars up there...up there in the black expanse.

It seems strange now that I feel uncomfortable here. Well, that's not really the right word to use. I guess it's more of being...

Terrified.

Angry.

Hurt.

I lost a crewman today, someone whom I hadn't even gotten to know that well. Damn it, what kind of captain does that make me? What kind of man? The kind that can't mourn for the loss of one of his own, because in truth, it seems too small a loss?

God, how horrible that sounds.

Because that's how I feel. I don't feel right in mourning, not now. It seems so unimportant, so wrong to care that one person died, when thousands of others have already been killed. It adds to the anger, the frustration, the seething hatred.

He said I was too moral.

I know he's right.morality has no place in the Expanse. This part of space, this stretch of darkness, we can't be weak here. It isn't the same space I had gazed upon as a child, not the same place where my dreams had flown. We can't be children here. We can't be moral, we can't be willing and nave and trusting. Does it make me any less human? No.

It makes me stronger. Better. More capable. More capable of making sure those fucking bastards get what they deserve. It's better this way. I was too soft before. I tried too hard to be fair, too hard to make things "better" for everyone else.

Now I'm going through changes, changes  
God, I feel so feel so frustrated lately  
When I get suffocated, save me  
Now I'm going through changes.changes

And it left me with a dead crewman.

I try to hold this under control  
They can't help me because no one knows

The Xindi.how can a person hate something so much? I used to think that the conflicts around me were too harsh, too cold, too unreasonable for logical, feeling, thinking beings such as ourselves. But then again, I had never been engulfed with such a hatred before, so I suppose it is only through experiencing such hate that one can understand being capable. And not just capable of hating, but of acting on that hate. Being capable of destroying, of craving that destruction.

It's a different man in the mirror this morning, a different captain. Things are changing quickly, and I know that I have to keep up if I'm going to survive this.

I am capable now. I know it. I have that control.

And if-when I find them, I will act.

Now I'm going through changes, chnages  
God, I feel so feel so frustrated lately  
When I get suffocated, I hate this  
But I'm going through changes, changes


	2. Dangerous Game

_Malcolm Reed_

You stand before me  
Now we stare eye to eye  
Before another second ticks away, one of us will die  
You reach for your medal as I reach for mine  
The sound of bullets flying through the air is followed by a cry

I saw him lose control, and I couldn't say anything.

I didn't want to.

Of course I questioned him. I've questioned the man since the day I stepped onto his ship, questioned how he ran his crew, how he prepared us for what lay ahead. I knew his was the most important role here, and I'd be damned if I saw him take us down with him.

So I questioned him. Shouted at him, told him what he was doing was wrong. That he could have killed someone today, out of cold blood. But the thing is, I know I would have done the same.

Or worse.

And the cry...

He let him go, let him live. It's rather terrifying to admit, but I can't see how he managed it. I couldn't have done that, I know that now. If he had asked me to kill him, I would have done so, I would have done my duty. But is it really my duty to kill? Or to protect?

Where are the lines drawn?

I've seen war. We Reeds were built for it, built for the fighting, built to thrive in the game of war, to follow one's duty through the blood and the pain. But this, this was something I had not expected. I had not expected to feel.nothing.

Well, maybe that's a lie.

I did feel something, felt a savage sort of bloodthirst that I can barely describe. It was completely foreign to me, a thought so chaotic and wild that it shook the frames of my mind.

For I realized that this war was different.

What will we do, what will we say when it's  
The end of this game that we play  
When we crumble into the dust, my friend  
Although we start this game over again  
It's coming back to me

I had been brought up believing in the structure of things. Order, sense, logic. Strategy in combat more than blind firepower, cunning on the field as well as off, knowing the rules of the game. But it never occurred to me that the rules were created by men, men who had felt the same hatred flowing in their veins as I do now.

I didn't suffer a "personal" loss. Perhaps I don't have the right to be angered, to want to retaliate. I didn't lose anyone close to me, didn't feel the physical effects of the attack on my own body.

But maybe I didn't look hard enough. Because I didn't escape unscathed by the devastation. I didn't lose a sister, or a brother, or a mother and father, but what I did lose was the sense of control I had kept for so long.

The knowledge of the game.

The rules.

Gone.

It was a different kind of war.

This young man lies alone dead fast into the ground  
The sound of fleeing feet and the crying eye  
Will be his last sound, yeah  
But do we gain from all this?  
Now, was it worth a life? no  
We throw all of our hopes away  
And set our dreams aside

They killed one of my men. One of the people I had worked with, talked to, shared a laugh with and fought by. And then all of a sudden, he is dead. A pawn, captured by the darkest night. A man who died doing his duty.

Is it mine now to avenge him? Mine to take blood for blood?

Maybe I'm the one being pessimistic now, but how can you not be? He was a good man, and damn fine soldier, but I suppose that is how the game, isn't it? The young and strong and noble die, while those of us who are consumed by hatred linger on. And every day makes us feel more guilty for simply surviving.

I'm not supposed to be the one to bury my men. I don't want to be the one who says goodbye, the one who watches as they fall while preaching the values of duty.

Now we're crying

But I am. And I know that he won't be the last to fall, because the game is still going, rules or no rules. But I see now that I too am just a pawn in that game, and perhaps that is why I say I feel nothing. No remorse, no guilt at what my captain wants me to do. If he wanted me to kill, I would kill. If he wanted me to hate, I would hate.

Because I'm just following orders in this game. And like every other soldier, I have to do my duty.

What will we do, what will we say when it's  
the end of this game that we play  
When we crumble into the dust, my friend  
Although we start this game over again


	3. Going Down In Flames

_Charles Tucker III_

Don't tell me what to think  
Cause I don't care this time  
Don't tell me what you believe  
Cause you won't be there  
To catch me when I fall  
But you'll need me when I'm not here at all  
Miss me when I'm gone again, yeah

Bastards.

Fucking cold hearted bastards.

My baby sister.my Lizzie.just gone.

I've always been the happy one, the smiling kind of person who god knows annoyed the hell out of people with my optimism. "Keep yer shirt on", I'd always say. That was when things made sense. When life seemed to hold nothing against me.

I came out into space to explore, to satisfy my overwhelming hunger for adventure. Jon and I aren't so different in that respect. We both thought of space as something warm, something inviting.

In truth, it is just something dead.

Somehow, those ideals and dreams of exploring vanished. Stolen from me. From all of us. And maybe it's a good thing, maybe it's about times we realized that life wasn't all about shaking hands and making friends.

It's about blood. It's about taking back what was taken from you. It's about never letting your guard down, not for anything or anyone.

I'm going down in flames  
I'm falling into this again, yeah  
I'm going down in flames  
I'm falling into this again

I know half the ship thinks I'm on the warpath, even if they say nothing to me. They whisper, point, and cast me those looks filled with pity and sorrow. Part of me wants to tell them that they shouldn't bother just yet, because by the time I'm through, it won't be me that will be needing it.

Don't tell me how life is  
Cause I don't really don't want to know  
Don't tell me how this game ends  
Cause we'll just see how it goes  
Catch me when I fall  
Or you'll need me when I'm not here at all  
Miss me when I'm gone again, yeah

They will pay. It's not something that I'm saying to make myself feel better. It's not some way of assuring my hurt pride and heart that there will be solace, because in truth, I know that seeing them dead won't do any good. It won't bring Lizzie back, it won't save all those other people from their fiery deaths.

But you know what? At the moment, I couldn't care less.

Because I want them dead.

All of them.

I want them dead.

And I'm going to make it happen,

I'm going down in flames  
I'm falling into this again, yeah  
I'm going down in flames  
I'm falling into this again, yeah


	4. Away From The Sun

_Hoshi Sato_

It's down to this  
I've got to make this life make sense  
Can anyone do what I've done  
I missed life  
I missed the colors of the world  
Can anyone go where I am...

There's so much hate.

It seems almost impossible to imagine myself a few months ago, before any of this happened. To see Trip smile like he used to, to see the captain relax and laugh, to see Malcolm let down his guard. God I wish I could see that again.

Somehow, it's like gravity has just been taken away from all of us. We can't seem to hold on to anything, can't seem to land on solid ground and wake up from this dream. This nightmare. We drift in and out of ourselves, lashing out unexpectedly at our friends, lashing out at ourselves when we're alone. We no longer have a grasp on anything, no longer can say that we are sure of what we're doing.

Because the world we knew doesn't exist in the Expanse.

'Cause now again I've found myself  
So far down, away from the sun  
That shines into the darkest place  
I'm so far down, away from the sun  
That shines the life away from me  
To find my way back into the arms  
That care about the ones like me  
I'm so far down, away from the sun again

I'm not angry, no, not angry at all. I'm not like the others, feeling such hatred pouring through my blood. I suppose it's predictable, but I have no sense of anger.

Instead, I fear.

I can admit it at least. I fear for my life, for my humanity, for my sense of control. I fear for the person I was, the person I am, the person that I could be. I fear for everyone.

I think they all do, but they use their anger to push past that. To deny the very real possibility that we might not all make it out of this. We're blinding pushing deeper into the Expanse, blinding chasing the demons that had plagued our sense of comfort and security, and yet somehow, I feel as if I am the only one who sees where we are going.

It's not somewhere where we can breathe again. It's not somewhere any of us really want to be. But it's where we're heading now, heading at full speed, heading rashly and boldly and angrily. We're running straight into darkness, straight into the roles of the people we never dreamed of becoming.

I never thought I'd live to see the day Jonathan Archer lose his sense of control. But here it was, cold, unforgiving, and terrifying. I saw that hunger in his eyes for the Xindi database, saw the anger and sudden madness when I had almost lost the connection.

It shook me. Deeper than I can say. I don't like seeing that in him, don't like seeing the way hatred consumes his entire being.

I don't like seeing hatred in the eyes of good people, people who deserve better.

I'm over this  
I'm tired of living in the dark  
Can anyone see me down here  
The feeling's gone  
There's nothing left to lift me up  
Back into the world I've known

I don't want to hate anymore. I'm tired of seeing people cry, tired of seeing my friends torn between their morality and their fury. I don't want to be a part of this mission, this mission that calls for such violence, for such destruction. If it means giving up my chance in a lifetime here, then I would do it, because I don't like the person I am becoming.

The woman who has to force herself to be cold, the woman who can't dare feel pity for the ones who are about to destroyed by her people, the woman who can't dare feel remorse and guilt and pain over what she was being ordered to do.

It's down to this  
I've got to make this life make sense  
And now I can't do what I've done

I can't be so unfeeling. I don't know how they do it, how they hide their fears, their guilt, their pain. How they shield their hearts from feeling so damn wrong for hating, how they can bury that humanity beneath the outer surface.

I can't hide it, but I can't fight it either. I'm just sinking down with them, blindly hurtling with them into the darkness, into the Expanse. Like Trip keeps saying, we're going to get those bastards. We're going to make them pay. And I'm simply following that now, because honestly, where else can I go?

I only hope that when we do reach the other side, when we cause such devastation and death, when our anger has been quelled and our vengeance completed, we will still be human.

I hope that when we stand upon the bodies of the fallen, we will still be human enough to care.

'Cause now again I've found myself  
So far down, away from the sun  
That shines into the darkest place  
I'm so far down, away from the sun  
That shines the life away from me  
To find my way back into the arms  
That care about the ones like me  
I'm so far down, away from the sun again


End file.
